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I Would Die to Have It

Thanksgiving

"What are you doing for the weekend/holidays/any point in time-"From Someone who likes to plan in advance, but has NO REAL JOB or anything to plan out: STOP FUCKIN WIT ME

Haiku:
This Thanksgiving Day
I opened my eyes to find
I coughed up some blood

My youngest godson is a 13yo petri dish that won't cover his mouth coughing the entire 4hr drive sitting behind me, and I already had a weakened immune system before this, now my 'preventative steps' have turned into me prepping for a micro-invasion. 1st day = sleeping, just sleeping and feeling a scratch growing in the back of my throat. Great. 2nd day, my youngest godson eats 4 times before lunch; lunch starts with 2 bags of popcorn to himself, and 10 jumbo chicken tenders (basically each one a steroidal chicken breast unto itself) and though he struggled through the gristle, eventually- EVERY CRUMB GONE.

On thxgiving, he's made his plate, sat down at the table while the adults serve themselves and HE EATS SO MUCH SO FAST that he's half finished before grace is said, and totally done minutes after. He interrupts the adults, and loudly asks for pie before they're done baking, so INSTEAD gets permission to have some refrigerated lemon pie--*SIGHING* and brings the whole thing to the table, and he balks that he has to be told to cut a piece from the silver pie dish. Almost immediately after the pie, he abruptly stands saying he's going to the bathroom. When conversation tries to flow around and past this, he LOUDLY announces he "has to take a dump". my mind screeched: I SHOULD BEAT YOU WITH A SHOE FOR YOUR INSOLENCE. He then gets 2nd heaping plate of food- because the pies are STILL NOT DONE??- so instead he makes another whole thanksgiving meal of an axe-head wedge of turkey breast with cran-jello and 2 more cups of rice stuffing .
The red wine was chilled. Proles.

I'm bad, too. I discovered a GREAT grocery delivery app, and it lets me get SO specific, I'm quite enraptured. The anticipation of my period makes me gob down a total of: 6 cans of SpagettiOs, 3 frozen meals, a large tube of choclate cookie dough, 2 bags of chocolate covered pretzels, & 3 boxes of Lil Debbie Swizz Rolls.

Period finally slammed into me after my cozy week at the beach (even though weather only permitted laying on the sand two days) as my chest congestion illness tried to wrap up, so I subbed snacks for nutrient-rich soft foods, and stretched Robert's Grocery small bowls of crab and corn chowder & loaded potato soup with the white rice I kept from my Chinese takeaway.
I finally recover physically but not mentally from not having my car for another entire week.
Vent frustration to family- who obligingly put me and my dog in a balconied hotel room on St. Charles Ave downtown, a block from my church. First afternoon, I miss the event I'd hoped to attend but thankfully I alerted my father, and he went and prayed before St. John Vianney's incorrupt heart in its glass shrine at St Rita's, and later in the afternoon I get turtle soup and frozen bananas foster (delicious drink!) siting outside Palace Cafe with my cousin and he walks me in to Mass. Getting him to even step into a church is like winning a prize.

I kiss him firmly on the cheek, say goodbye, and quietly weep for safety of my family during the moving homily and Eucharist. I walk the city after, fully charged Tazer always in my purse. 6pm is already the middle of the night. It's pitch black outside the protective circles of streetlights. The tourists gaggle about and step into traffic like they think the cars don't move, like this is a Universal or Disney park with fake streets. They're horrified by a dark homeless with oily skin and clothes who clutches a stop sign as though afraid of a tornado and howls "DOOON'T BE LOOOOKIN' AT MY POLE!"
I get followed for three long blocks, and I'm too used to it as a woman. At least I'm not old; weirdos here get off on trying to scare old women. At least for now, I look like I can defend myself, and the conversation that happens during my walk down the street is a polite one (relatively. It contained all the usuals "Do you live around here?/Do you know your way around?/Do you live alone?/Oh,a boooyfriend huh.../But is he a GOOD boyfriend?" Everything except an explicit invitation to his crotch; that's what makes something polite nowadays.)
For three days, I enjoy being the R*ch G*rl at the Hotel with Her Dog, and hearing the rolling clatter of the streetcar ringing outside, directly below my balcony.
I still have frustrations sleeping even though I should be rocked asleep by virtue of the beautifully familiar surroundings and plush hotel bed; I'm too used to having some sounds of talking with flickering lights on.
I fall asleep to a tempting Power Air Fryer infomercial, where some tablespoons of fat melted off some steaks tries to camouflage all the carbs people are encouraged to eat with the thing. Air Fry all your foods! Add no oils! All fat melts away! Put breadcrumbs on everything! Mozzarella sticks are smushed into bread with cheddar slices and airfried as a double grilled cheese sandwich. BUT IT ALSO DEHYDRATES FRUIT =D
The ad after it for NOOM makes me physically respond with aggression, and the tv is finally off.
My car is finally fixed the next day, and after I check out it is delivered to me lovingly with a full tank of gas & a cup of black coffee for me. I take it to Target where the fat mannequins have been placed downstairs in front. Is this the new standard for the 'holiday body'? Size 8 and 10 faceless representations are in the forefront, but only sizes 0 & 2 mannequins are used in the bathing-suit/underwear section. Of course. I eat almost nothing but crap before and during my period but my metabolism has no problem working through food quickly now. I am always thinking of what to eat, how much, and when to eat it.
I make a long "To Do" list then get overwhelmed & can't decide what to do first while my microwave KEEPS beeping REMINDING me that my soup is REA-DY TO EAT! BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!